


The Picture

by ariel2me



Series: Inspired by Fire & Blood [15]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin
Genre: F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-21
Updated: 2019-09-21
Packaged: 2020-10-25 01:02:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,155
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20715506
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ariel2me/pseuds/ariel2me
Summary: In Rhaenys Targaryen, daughter of the Old King’s eldest son and heir, he had found his perfect match, a woman as spirited and beautiful and proud as any in the realm, and a dragonrider as well. His sons and daughters would soar through the skies, Lord Corlys expected, and one day one of them would sit the Iron Throne. (Fire & Blood)Laena Velaryon, Laenor Velaryon, and a gift for their parents’ tenth wedding anniversary.





	The Picture

**Author's Note:**

> A sequel to **[A Roaring Uplift](https://archiveofourown.org/works/17191700)**

Laena and her younger brother worked secretly and diligently on the picture together, the picture that was going to be their gift for the tenth wedding anniversary of their father and mother. 

Laena drew the three dragons as well as the three dragonriders, while Laenor was supposed to draw the two ships and the people on the ships. The first ship was their father’s most famous ship, the _Sea Snake_. He had regaled them with countless tales of his adventures around the world aboard that ship, when he came to kiss them good night, every night that he was not absent from High Tide. The second ship was a pirate ship that was supposed to be full of … well, pirates. But Laenor could not draw_ that_ many pirate figures without all of them looking the same, so Laena helped him with the task.

“This one should be brandishing a sword rather than an axe,” said Laena, as she was drawing one of the pirates.

Laenor was skeptical, however. “Do pirates even know how to wield a sword? They are not knights, or men-at-arms serving a lord.”

“Well, _some_ of them do, surely,” Laena replied with a shrug. “In all the known world, there _must _be some pirates out there who are proficient in sword-fighting.”

“Maybe this pirate was a former knight, who had fallen from grace, and decided to live the life of an outlaw,” Laenor speculated with relish, his eyes gleaming.

His sister laughed. “You have such a wonderful imagination, brother.” 

Laenor accepted the praise with a grin. But the grin receded as he glanced at his sister’s part of the drawing, with the three dragons and their three respective riders.

“Why have you drawn only _three_ dragonriders?” he asked his sister.

“That’s Mother, that’s you, and that’s me,” replied Laena, pointing at each figure in turn. “Three is the right number.”

“But what about Father?”

“He is not a dragonrider.”

“Well, we’re not dragonriders either. Only Mother is. _Seasmoke_ is still too young and too small to bear my weight, Mother said. And you haven’t even claimed a dragon, Laena.”

Laena had refused to claim any of the hatchlings from the pits of Dragonstone. She wanted to claim a mature and mighty dragon with pedigree, with history. She was still waiting for the right one, the right one to mount, the right dragon who would take her soaring through the skies. Even at the age of seven, Laena could be very strong-minded and determined indeed, when it came to something she really believed in, just like her mother. 

“But we _will_ be dragonriders like Mother, someday,” she reminded her brother, “because we have her blood in us, the _Targaryen_ blood.”

Laenor asked, “And where is Father in this picture?”

“He is aboard his ship, of course. The Sea Snake, aboard the _Sea Snake_,” replied Laena, with a smile. 

Laenor giggled. Then his giggling suddenly stopped, as he said, ruefully, “But I have not yet drawn Father on his ship.”

“You can do that now, while I finish drawing the pirates.”

They worked in silence side by side, until the drawing was finally completed.

“Why do we need the pirates in the picture anyway?” asked Laenor, as they were inspecting the final result. “They’re not our family. They’re not one of _us_.”

“Well, of course they’re not one of us. But the pirates are attacking Father’s ship, and then we come to rescue him.”

“_We_?”

“You, me and Mother. We fly on our dragons to rescue Father from the attack of the pirates. That’s the story we’re telling with this picture.”

Laenor was silent for quite some time. Finally, with his brows furrowed, he asked, anxiously, “Would Father like that? What if … what if he doesn’t like the picture? What if he’s offended by our gift? What if he thinks that it is meant as an insult?”

“Why would he be offended? And how could it be an insult?” Laena asked in return, sounding very perplexed.

“Well, look at the picture. The picture says that Father needs to be rescued by his wife and his children, because his wife and his children are dragonriders, but he is not. Cousin Vaemond said that strong men should never allow themselves to be ruled by women and children. He said that proud Velaryons do not need –”

“Father is _not_ Cousin Vaemond,” Laena interrupted, with some irritation. She was not very fond of this particular cousin. Cousin Vaemond was their father’s nephew, but he was a grown man many years older than Laena and Laenor, and he often made sly remarks behind his uncle’s back about how Lord Corlys’ children were still poor little babes in swaddling clothes. Laena did not like what Cousin Vaemond had said at all. They were not babes in swaddling clothes, let alone poor little babes! Laena was seven and Laenor was six, and they had not been wrapped with swaddling clothes in _years_. 

(Even Mother did not like what Cousin Vaemond had been saying. Laena had overheard Mother saying to Father, “Should you die when our children are still in their minority, your nephew will try to claim the position of Lord of the Tides and Master of Driftmark for himself, I would wager. He would use the same excuse that my grandfather did – that a grown man is better suited for rule. Except I was _not_ a minor when my grandfather decided to make Uncle Baelon his heir, at my expense. I was a grown woman of eight-and-ten, but I suppose even _that _was not considered grown enough in my grandfather’s eyes, for those who were not born as males.”) 

“And in any case,” Laena told her brother, “we’re not _ruling_ Father in the picture. We’re _saving_ him from danger. Father would do the same thing for us, if _we’re _the ones in danger. We’re coming to his rescue because we love him, just like he would come to our rescue because he loves us.”

“There are four people in our family, and Father is the only one who will _not_ be a dragonrider. Perhaps he would not like to be reminded of that, especially on the anniversary of his wedding,” Laenor persisted. 

Laena shook her head. “Father is proud to be married to a dragonrider, and he is also proud that his children will be dragonriders too. He told us that often enough, don’t you remember? And it’s the anniversary of Mother’s wedding too, not just Father’s. Mother would _love_ the picture, I am sure. And Father will love it too, you’ll see.” She playfully mussed her brother’s hair to try to soothe his concern, but Laenor still looked worried. 

**_________________________**

When Laena and Laenor presented the gift to their father and mother, Lord Corlys and Princess Rhaenys both seemed utterly delighted. They ohhhed and aaahhhed endlessly, took turns pointing at various details that interested and fascinated them, and praised the effort it took to draw the picture.

“We did it ourselves, all by ourselves. We drew the picture together,” Laena said, proudly. “Do you like it?”

“We love it,” Lord Corlys and Princess Rhaenys replied in unison, with matching smiles on their faces.

Laenor finally looked reassured, free of his previous concern that their father might find the picture insulting. 

Laena began telling the story described by the picture, adding many additional details that were not included in the picture itself. Laenor was annoyed at first, crossing his arms and sulking, but after a while, he joined in and added his own embellishments, embellishments that were even more whimsical and fanciful that his sister’s. 

After they had finished telling the story, their father said, “We must frame the picture –“

“– and mount it in our bedchamber, so we could see it every day,” their mother added.

**_________________________**

Later, in their bedchamber, as they were drinking wine and toasting their tenth year of marriage, with her eyebrows arched, Rhaenys questioned her husband, “So how do you _truly _feel about that picture?”

Corlys choked on his wine. “What do you mean?” he sputtered. “I said I love it, didn’t I? We _both_ said we love it. We said it together, in fact, if you recall.”

“Well, _I _certainly love the picture, but perhaps you feel differently, seeing as _you _were the one who had to be rescued from the pirates. Did it not hurt your manly pride, perhaps, to be rescued by your wife and your children?”

Corlys scoffed. “My love, you insisted on coming to King’s Landing for our wedding on the back of your dragon, as a clear statement in front of the whole realm that you have no intention to be your husband’s puppet when you are queen, despite your married state. And the day after our wedding, you took me flying on your dragon as your passenger, and you made sure to remind me that your dragon only accepted me on her back because _you_ allowed it. That did not dent or damage my manly pride at all. I am made of sterner stuff than that. That was the reason you thought me worthy to be your husband in the first place. So why should a picture showing my wife and my children as dragonriders hurt my pride? I am proud that I am married to a fierce and fearsome dragonrider, a woman who is worthy of _me_, and I am even prouder that our children will soon follow in their mother’s footsteps.”

“That is what you have always claimed and proclaimed, but perhaps you might feel differently, when the day finally arrives that our children are _truly _dragonriders, and they are soaring through the skies with me, while you are left behind waiting for us on the ground. You might feel differently, when the picture is no longer just a picture, but a reality, a reality you have to live with.”

Corlys considered his wife’s remark for a long while. “You could be right, of course. But I am sure that on_ that_ particular day, you will be there to remind me that _this_ is what I have always dreamed of and aspired to in the first place.” 

“And what about the Iron Throne?” asked Rhaenys. “Are you disappointed that one of our children will not be sitting on that throne, like you have always dreamed of and aspired to?”

Rhaenys’ uncle Prince Baelon had been secured in his position as the Prince of Dragonstone and the heir to the Iron Throne for eight years by now. And Prince Baelon had two sons of his own. All their efforts to contest Rhaenys’ exclusion from the throne – and the exclusion of her children – had been futile so far. The king had refused to budge, ignoring even his queen’s strenuous objection. 

“I am disappointed that my lady wife has been robbed of her birthright,” Corlys replied.

Rhaenys snorted. “I’m sure that is not your_ biggest_ disappointment. I am not of your blood after all. Our children are.”

“If you are queen, then I would be your –“

“You would be a prince consort, not a king consort. That was what we both agreed to, before our wedding. It was even written down clearly in our marriage contract, signed and sealed by the both of us, and witnessed by my father, my mother, your two brothers and the High Septon.”

“Too bad our marriage contract did not convince your grandfather that I could never try to rule _through_ you, that I could not try to usurp the power of the queen and make it my own.”

“Oh, it was never about my husband, or about my ability to ensure that my husband will not rule the realm in my name! It is about the fact that I was not born with a cock. He denied it back then and he _still_ denies it to this very day, but my grandfather does not believe that a woman could rule as well as a man, even a woman who had been trained for ruling since she was a little girl,” said Rhaenys, bitterly. 

Corlys put down his wine goblet, and moved closer towards his wife. He took her hand and kissed it. “Your grandfather was a _fool_ to exclude you from the succession, because if _any _woman is capable of ruling, it is you, my princess. You have ruled my heart for these ten years of our marriage after all.”

Rhaenys rolled her eyes, though her husband could detect a slight smile on the corners of her lips. 

Sliding closer towards her husband, Rhaenys whispered in his ear, “If not me, and not one of our children, then perhaps one of our grandchildren could sit on the Iron Throne one day.”

“Oh? And do you have a plan for accomplishing that, my love?”

Rhaenys smiled. “We shall work on that plan together, dear husband, like our children worked on drawing that picture together.”


End file.
